


Time Tells

by Klappy



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Babysitting, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad excuse for trash at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 00:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10560046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klappy/pseuds/Klappy
Summary: “Let’s do this again,” Shizuo grunts. The boy in front of him simply stares. “You’re Orihara Izaya.” Nod. “You’re five.” Another nod. “You said you found me unconscious on 60th street.” Yet another nod. “And you’re really five?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from [FFNet](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12280180/1/Time-Tells). What is with me and babysitting fics?

Maybe aliens were real. And they have this contraption that takes people back in time. Or maybe there really is a parallel space. And he got thrown into it when that bus hit him. Or maybe he just hit his head harder than what he normally can deal with and his mind went all looney.

There’s just no simple explanation why there’s a five year-old Izaya in front of him while he’s still in his mid-twenties.

“Let’s do this again,” Shizuo grunts. The boy in front of him simply stares. “You’re Orihara Izaya.” Nod. “You’re five.” Another nod. “You said you found me unconscious on 60th street.” Yet another nod. “And you’re really five?”

At this point, the kid—Izaya, he reminds himself—looks at him with an expression he’s all too familiar with but on an older face. The look that says he thinks of him as an idiot.

This was Izaya, all right.                                      

What did he get his self into now?

 

It’s almost a week now since Shizuo arrived in this… time. For some twisted reason, he’s been staying at Izaya’s place. Since he was technically in the past, Kururi and Mairu haven’t been born yet and Izaya is mostly alone. He’s been here for a while and he’s yet to meet his parents. Come to think of it, he’s never met Izaya’s parents even back in high school. Or is it will never meet in high school? Does this mean that the past is now in the future or is it the present?

Shizuo sighs and lights his nth stick. This whole time thing is too complicated for him. Not to mention he’s currently living with his arch enemy. Although he’d have to admit things weren’t what he expected them to be.

As a kid, Izaya is unnaturally quiet. He rarely speaks, distances his self from the other kids in his kindergarten class, and acts independently for his age. He still knows how to get on Shizuo’s nerves though. Like that time when the brat gave him expired milk on purpose. Or when he hid Shizuo’s clothes while he was taking a bath (he hid them in the mailbox outside, for fuck’s sake). He still has that same, piercing eyes that Shizuo loathed—how can someone’s stare be so sharp they can stab you by a glare alone?

Oh, and that smirk? Yeah, Izaya already had that down this early in life.

"This place stinks now." A small elbow lands on the top of his head as Izaya comes up behind him. “You stink.”

A vein pops in his temple but Shizuo simply grits his teeth. He shoves the offending limb away and turns to stare upside down at the kid on the bed. “Trust me. No one’ll stink more than you’ll do in a couple of years.”

 

 

                                                                  

It’s too _loud_. Can’t they turn that freaking siren off? There’s no obvious emergency left here. Oh, wait. The driver’s still stuck in his seat with the steering wheel compressing his lungs. Oops.

Shizuo is tapping his foot restlessly as the paramedics and firefighters rushed around the wreckage. It was insane, he knew, but he had this thought this morning that perhaps, if he gets hit by another bus, he can get back to whatever space or time he actually belongs to. And the result was all this wreck. The official story is that the driver swerved when he didn’t notice Shizuo crossing the street, even though Shizuo deliberately stepped out at the last minute. He got off with a few scrapes while the bus’ front was completely totaled. Nice to know that he was still as indestructible as before, but the fact remains he’s still stuck _here_. Wherever here is.

 _I need a smoke_. The pack he kept in his breast pocket slipped out and got trampled on during the accident. _Might as well go…?_ Shizuo gets up to leave while the attention’s not on him but he catches sight of the boy standing at the edge of the crowd before running off.

_Izaya?_

He tries not to think of how miserable the boy looked as those blood red eyes bore onto him.

 

He’s no good at this, Shizuo admits. Kasuka was better at keeping his calm and babysitting. Shizuo never did this before due to obvious reasons. And Izaya was testing that reason right now.

“Look, kid,” he starts. Izaya pays him no attention and continues to angrily scribble on his drawing board. Shizuo figures his kindergarten teacher should be concerned with Izaya drawing dark blots using just red and black crayons. “I don’t even know if you’ll understand what I’m saying but,” he scratches the back of his head, clearly annoyed that he had to explain himself to _Izaya_ of all people, “I’m not from around here, okay? This is all just fu— messed up. I have to go back and I’m trying to—“

Shizuo almost bites his tongue when the boy turns around to face him. Oh.

“You’re just like the rest of them,” the boy says in a hushed tone. “You just leave me behind.”

Shizuo has heard the worst from those lips, but he’s never heard anything as icy as the words he just did.

 

 

He’s already halfway through the new pack when Shizuo decides enough is enough.

Izaya, after exhausting himself on the drawing board, had climbed into bed at four in the afternoon and stayed curled under the covers. The kid still is and for all the times Shizuo wished the full-grown Izaya would have left him alone, he finds himself yanking the sheets off of the younger version unable to leave _him_ alone. Izaya glares back at him with a “Hey!” and pouts.

Shizuo tries not to think that a pout looks cute on him. No. Not at all. Especially with his cheeks puffed out and he’s obviously holding back tears.

“I knew you were a crybaby,” he says with a deadpan expression.

The kid throws a pillow at him. “I am _not_!”

 

 

“What are you doing?”

“Baking.”

“What are you baking?”

“Pie.”

“What pie?”

Shizuo narrows his eyes at the kid perched on the kitchen counter, tries to decide if this was another of Izaya’s antics, contemplates if he’s being annoying about it, then decides that yes, he is. He taps the whisk on the edge of the bowl that held three pounds of apples.

Izaya blinks. “Why?”

The grown man doesn’t answer at first because there’s no way in _hell_ is he going to tell Izaya he’s baking the pie for him since he felt guilty about making a kid cry. “I’m hungry.”

“There’s _obento_ in the fridge.”

Shizuo opens said fridge to put the dough in and sees the packed meals. The frown on his face was enough to have Izaya scoot over the counter towards him and poke the space between his eyebrows. He slaps the offending finger away. “You shouldn’t be eating these.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re little and you need to eat proper food.” He pauses after a thought. “Maybe this is why you grow up to be so skinny.”

“I’m not skinny,” Izaya pouts at him. Shizuo doesn’t resist the urge and hefts him up by the back of his collar, to which Izaya trashes around and shouts, “Hey! Put me down!” Shizuo puts him down with a smirk.

“Pretty skinny to me.”

 

 

To Shizuo’s relief, the pie turned out all right. If you could call a burnt, half-baked pie ‘all right’.

Who was he kidding? Izaya already spent the last fifteen minutes on the kitchen floor, howling in laughter. Shizuo is sorely tempted to start kicking him just to shut him up but then he remembers that this was a child and contrary to popular belief, he’s not that much of a monster that he’ll start hurting children.

Shizuo waits for the laughter to die down (which takes another ten minutes), before Izaya picks himself off the floor and settles down the seat next to him, looking like he ran a mile. To his surprise, Izaya bends down just enough to take two plates from the storage underneath the table, a pair of forks, and a pie knife.

“What are you…?”

The kid proceeds to cut a slice from the failed pie, puts a piece in his mouth, freezes with a grimace, before swallowing it whole.

“…are you trying to kill yourself?”

Izaya shakes his head and grins up at Shizuo. “No one’s made me pie before. It’s not too bad.” He tilts his head, confused, when Shizuo suddenly chokes and turns his back on him, the tips of his ears all pink.

 

 

Shizuo isn’t sure why he’s doing what he’s doing but here he is, smoking and waiting for Izaya’s kindergarten class to end. The bell rings and the children run out the door in groups. Shizuo spots Izaya at the back of the crowd, a teacher ushering him through the doors. It isn’t until he’s a few steps away the he notices the bandage covering the kid’s hands.

“Oi, what happened?”

The teacher looks up at him in surprise. “Oh! Are you his father?”

Shizuo splutters indignantly. “W-Wha—?! No, I’m not!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes. “This is the first time someone’s picking up Izaya-kun, I just assumed.” Shizuo feels a twinge of something at that. He’d thought as much with the length of time he’d spent alone with the kid, but hearing it spoken out loud just proves how depressing Izaya’s situation was. “Well, even if you’re not his parent I’m glad you’re here,” the teacher continues.

“What happened to his hands?”

The woman sighs audibly. “The children were just playing, but then Izaya-kun suddenly runs and grabs the lit candle we’re keeping at an altar and, well… you can see what happened. He won’t say why, but he’s normally a quiet child. There are times that he does something like this, though, like he’s trying to put attention on himself.”

The teacher sighs again and Shizuo can see Izaya flinch. The kid had his head down since they stepped out and he’s still staring at his bandaged hands. It was a far-fetched thought, given that the flea he knew did thrive in the spotlight, but Shizuo suspects that Izaya did this not because he lacked attention.

Without thinking, Shizuo stoops low and grabs Izaya by the arms, hoisting him up on his shoulders. Izaya yelps in shock and grabs a fistful of his hair to keep himself steady.

“Thanks,” he says to the teacher who could only nod in shock. He then walks away with the child still grabbing his hair.

 

 

“Hey,” Shizuo speaks after a while as they walk back towards Izaya’s house. Technically, he’s the only one walking; Izaya’s still perched on his shoulders. He hopes his hair holds out though with how tight the kid was grabbing onto it.

“…y-yeah?”

Shizuo glances up. “Are you scared?”

“N-No!”

And he can’t help it, Shizuo lets out a laugh. It was funny since the Izaya he knew did all kinds of parkour and his younger self was scared of Shizuo’s height.

Come to think of it, maybe Izaya _is_ still scared of Shizuo’s height.

“D-Don’t laugh!” Izaya yanks on his hair and Shizuo does stop laughing. Darn kid.

They walk again in silence before Shizuo allows himself to ask, “Where are your parents?”

“Out.”

“I know they’re _out_.” He jerks the kid around. “You’re too young to be sarcastic.” He only stops when Izaya yanks on his hair again. “Well?”

He doesn’t get a reply until they were a block away from the house. “They’re on a ship.”

“They work on a ship?”

“No.”

“Then what are they doing on a ship?”

“Vacation.”

Shizuo frowns. “They left you behind on your own so they can take a break on a ship?”

“Yup.” Izaya crosses his arms on top of his crown and lays his chin on them.

Shizuo’s frown morphs into a scowl. “No wonder you grew up like that.”

“Like what?”

Shizuo doesn’t reply.

 

 

Izaya drops the fork for the nth time. Predictably, his hands sting too much he can’t even hold his utensils right.

“Why the fu—heck did you even do that?” Shizuo grimaces as he picks the fork from the floor and gets a clean one. Izaya stays pouting at their dinner. He stares at him for a while before deciding that yes, he already cared enough. “If you don’t tell me, I won’t know.” The kid stays quiet. Shizuo begins to tap a finger on the table before asking, “Are you being bullied?”

The boy whips his head to him with an embarrassed flush covering his face. “No, I’m not!”

Ah. Magic word. “Yeah,” Shizuo slurs out. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“I told you, I’m _not_!” Izaya shrieks. Shizuo leans back in shock at the child’s sudden outburst. “I just did that because the boys say they can hold the flame and I can’t! They say I’m too little so I have little hands! _I’m not!_ ”

Shizuo hasn’t seen him this riled up before, even when grown-up. He tries to calm the boy down but Izaya jumps up to stand on his seat so he can somehow tower over the older man. His face is flushed and he’s clenching his blistered hands tight against his side that Shizuo knew it must hurt.

“If I’m too little I can’t live on my own! But I _can_!” the boy shouts. “They’re the little ones! They’re the _babies_! They—!”

“Oi!”

There’s a loud crash, then the next thing Shizuo knows he’s staring at the ceiling with Izaya sprawled across his chest.

 

If anyone told him he’d be tucking Orihara Izaya into bed one day, he’d have tossed a truck across Ikebukuro with them in it.

“Stop crying and go to sleep,” he demands again but Izaya simply tears up some more. Where’s Kasuka when you need him? Or even Celty, for that matter.

After the little incident earlier, Shizuo had picked the child up and thrown him into his bedroom, before heading back to the kitchen and cleaning up. He’d had to change shirts too since Izaya had drooled and wiped his snot all over him. Then when he checked up on the kid he found Izaya trying to climb out the window.

“I’m getting too old for this,” the bodyguard grunted as he hoisted the child back into the room.

Now, bathed, dressed, and his bandages replaced, Izaya still doesn’t stop crying. Shizuo thinks that either he’s doing this just to spite him, or the kid hasn’t had anyone to cry to for the longest time that it came all spilling out now that he had Shizuo with him. If this was truly how the flea’s childhood went, no wonder Izaya’s sanity was as thin as a paper.

 

 

“Ow!”

“Stop being a ba—stop whining,” Shizuo chides him as he lathers the lotion on Izaya’s palms. The small hands were still an angry red when they woke up this morning. He already called Izaya’s teacher that he won’t be making it to class; said call was actually more of a single sentence exchange then a hastily dropped phone. Acting like a concerned parent is more than enough to make him cringe.

“But it hurts!”

Shizuo clicks his tongue at him. “Of course, it hurts.” He pauses for a second before adding, “Maybe this’ll teach you that stupidity hurts and that it’s not fair to hurt yourself or anyone else.”

“I won’t hurt anyone,” the boy answers, the sincerity sparkling in those huge, ruby-colored eyes, and Shizuo had to force himself to look away.

 _If only you knew._ But despite himself, Shizuo knows that the kid was, at least for now, saying the truth. “Then remember that and be sure you don’t.” And maybe if he does, Izaya would turn out differently.

Wait.

If he’s in the past and he’s been changing things for the young Izaya, would that make a difference?

 

 

Imagine having the power to change the future? Even of just one person? Would you take the risk?

Yes. If it’s to change someone as twisted as Orihara Izaya, Shizuo is willing to take that risk. The only question is if somehow, this already happened before. If you think about it, he could have already travelled to this time before, met Izaya as a child, and somehow the flea still grows up into a… well, _flea_. What if he’s actually the reason why Izaya turns out the way he does? Is his being here helpful at all?

Argh! All this thinking isn’t doing him any good!

“SHI. ZU. CHAN!”

Shizuo snaps his head at the kid now sitting on his lap. When did he get there? “What did you call me?”

“Shizu-chan.”

He knows he shouldn’t but he could feel his temper shoot up to the roof just hearing that nickname. “And _why_?”

“I’ve been calling you for so many times already,” the boy scowls at him with that are-you-an-idiot look.  “Heiwajima-san, Heiwajima, Heiwa-san, Shizuo-san, Shizuo, Shizu, Shi-chan…” He ticks a finger off for each name. “Then you answered at Shizu-chan! Oh, oh! Maybe you like that?”

Shizuo growls that no, he does not and what the heck is he doing on his lap?!

“Phone call!” the boy chirps and the Shizuo notices just then that he was holding out the handset. “It’s mom and dad!”

Shizuo felt his blood run cold.

 

 

“Y-Yeah. What? No, I’m not really… Oh, okay.”

He’s spent an hour on the phone convincing Izaya’s parents that he wasn’t anyone suspicious and that he’d rather kill himself than kidnap their child for ransom. He’d been tempted to tell them that their kid will be the one kidnapping people in a few years but Shizuo figured that will just make them more suspicious of him or have them think of him as a looney bin escapee. As it stands, once they were convinced of Shizuo’s innocence, Izaya’s parents were more than willing to leave him in his care.

_“He’d be left alone either away since we still have a few weeks left on our cruise, so be a darling and look after him for a bit longer, will you? You’ll have free lodging and food, after all. Not a bad trade, no?”_

If Shizuo had known he’d be speaking to a pair of dysfunctional individuals, he wouldn’t have been so nervous on picking up the phone. He’s been careful enough not to let Izaya hear their conversation. Goodness knows, no child deserves to know that his parents would rather while their time away gallivanting at sea than take care of their own son, even if said child was Izaya.

Placing the phone back on the receiver, Shizuo locates Izaya at the den, a mere foot away from the television. The fact that he truly was dealing with a child ultimately becomes clear to Shizuo by then, and he sits cross-legged on the floor a safe distance from the TV before scooping the kid onto his lap. Izaya squeaks and tries to turn around to face him, but Shizuo places a big hand on his head to keep him still.

“Looks like I’ll be stuck with you for a while.”

To his dismay, Izaya blows a raspberry. “That’s no fun.” But Shizuo doesn’t see the wide grin eating the child’s face.

 

 

It's the weekend. He's been in this time for officially half a month now and Shizuo still has no idea how he’ll get back. He’s sure Tom had phoned Kasuka by now to inform him he’s missing, and even though his younger brother rarely threw a fit, he just knows Kasuka is flipping the whole of Ikebukuro upside down looking for him. He’s probably already contacted Celty to help in the search.

But then there’s Izaya who, for all of the tantrums he dished out about not being a baby, can’t even wash the back of his ears properly. He didn’t know how to wash his own clothes (who’d expect a five year-old to, anyway?) so he’d been wearing the same set of school uniform for the week. He sets the timer incorrectly on the oven that the packed meals he’d been eating were almost always frozen. When Shizuo first arrived, the dishes were stacked high on the sink there weren’t any clean ones left!

Shizuo blows out the smoke he’s been holding in a long puff. Who in their right mind would even leave a small child on his own and just split? Oh yeah. Izaya’s parents.

Don’t get him wrong. His relationship with his own parents is far from average. But he at least had Kasuka, who had never been scared of his strength unlike most people. If he didn’t have his brother, would he have turned out the same as Izaya did? What if Izaya had _someone_ like he did?

Yes, people of Ikebukuro. Heiwajima Shizuo is starting to care about his arch nemesis. Perhaps the world _is_ ending.

And he’s been sitting on an idea for a while now but just can’t get himself to get over with it. On one hand, it’s Izaya. On the other hand, it’s _Izaya_.

What a dilemma.

“Oi,” he calls out to the kid playing ball at the backyard. Izaya flinches in surprise and fails to catch the ball. It smacks him right on the face. Shizuo bites his tongue to stop himself from laughing and walks over to kneel before the kid. Izaya’s trying not to cry, even though his face is already turning red on where the ball hit him. Shizuo chuckles and flicks him in the forehead.

“Want to go somewhere?”

 

 

The strongest man in Ikebukuro, yet his knees had gone weak when the coaster passed through the loop-de-loop.

Shizuo questions himself why he even thought of bringing Izaya to the amusement park in the first place. It’s the flea! Regardless of how young he was and how a kid didn’t deserve to be as unhappy as he is, he’s still going to be a pain in the ass in a few years.

That’s it. This whole thing is just messing up with him and he needs to find a way to go back to his life and to hating Izaya because he’s just not worth feeling like shi—

“Shizu-chan!”

“W-Wh?! Let go of my—!”

 _“You’re the best!”_ Izaya beams at him from where he’s clamped to the man’s leg, the pure glee on the kid’s face enough to make Shizuo do a double take on himself.

Screw it. That smile is actually worth feeling like shit.

 

 

“ _Ne_ , Shizu-chan?”

“I already told you to stop calling me that.” Shizuo barks at the kid. “And get down from there.”

Izaya obviously doesn’t listen and carries on balancing himself on the railing, the red balloon Shizuo bought for him bobbing up and down its string from behind him. “Where are you from?”

“Where?”

The kid wobbles to where Shizuo’s leaning on the railing. “Remember? You said you didn’t live here.”

 _Oh, right._ “I live here. But not this time.”

“Huh?”

Shizuo smirks at how confused the boy looks. He tosses his hair before he can help it, notices what he’s doing, and abruptly drops his hand. No, he’s not blushing. “You won’t get it,” he huffs and drags a long one from his stick.

Izaya blinks, thinks Shizuo is really weird, before sitting down on the railing and leaning against the man. “Okay. But we’re friends, right?”

Shizuo chokes on the cigarette in surprise. Well, he certainly didn’t expect _that_. Is he supposed to tell an innocent, five year-old that when he grows up he’ll be making a lot of people miserable and that they’ll be trying to kill each other any chance they get?

There’s no way he can say that. Not when he could feel those small hands on his back, the look on Izaya’s face no short of panic as he watched his “friend” cough the living daylights out of himself.

 

 

It’s halfway through the third week when it happens.

Shizuo was on his way to pick up Izaya from pre-school. He’s still not sure when he transitioned from wanting Izaya dead to willingly babysitting him, but there he was. He’s cooked proper meals for the kid, made sure he ate his vegetables, helped him with his homework, and—insert a blushing Shizuo here—taken a bath with him. In the bath tub. With a rubber duck.

And let’s not forget how he tucks Izaya to bed every night since their amusement park escapade and reads him a bed time story. Shizuo tries to convince himself that no, Izaya smiling, laughing and simply being the kid he’s supposed to be did not help matters at all. Emphasis on _tries_.

Sigh. Shizuo is no longer sure how he’d react around the flea when and if he gets back to his time. There’s a chance that this is all just a sick dream and he’s currently in a coma, no thanks to Izaya luring him in front of that bus. There’s also the matter that if this is all real—he still had his doubts—that same Izaya turns out to be just a really lonely kid who might have turned out differently if he had a say in it. And that actually says a lot given the things that the informant did. The manipulation, scheming, blackmailing, not to mention how he’d intentionally ruined Shizuo’s life… who’d have thought that scumbag would actually be a sweet kid?

… Did he just think of Izaya as _sweet_?

“Shizu-chan!”

Shizuo snaps out from cursing himself at that infuriating nickname. That still annoys him. Good.

He sees Izaya skipping just a ways ahead of the other kids, about to cross the street. Shizuo has told him time and again about what not to do, but as stubborn as his older version was, Izaya insists his brave enough to cross the street on his own. Well, there’s a school crossing patroller on duty so Shizuo doesn’t think much about it and stops by his side of the road to wait for the kid.

They don’t see the speeding car until it’s too late.

 

 

Everything hurt. His head feels like a jackhammer is pounding on it. It’s not cement, for fuck’s sake. Even his back hurt, at least four or five of his ribs felt broken, and he can’t even move either of his arms or legs. What the hell happened?

Oh, right. He got hit by a car.

Izaya was crossing the street when the sedan turned the corner, hurtling towards the child. The kid instantly froze and would have been killed that instant if Shizuo hadn’t leapt forward and threw himself between them. He barely had time to put his arms around the kid before they were thrown to the air and landed hard on the concrete. He’d fallen unconscious the moment they hit the ground.

His eyes snap open in alarm. If he’s this injured, what happened to Izaya?

Small hands touch the side of his face then and Shizuo turns his glance to the side. Izaya stood there, scraped and bruised but otherwise all right. Save for the tears as large as pearls that ran down his cheeks.

 

“Say ahhhh!”

“…”

“C’mon, Shizu-chan. You gotta eat!”

This is ridiculous.

Shizuo grabs the spoon from Izaya and shoves it in his mouth himself. He spits it out a second later. “What the fuck is this?!”

The old man on the bed next to his shushes indignantly.

“Language, Shizu-chan!” Izaya scolds him with that god-awful smirk. Shizuo has to remind himself that this is a kid and it won’t do him good to wipe that smirk off his face. Literally.

 _“What is this?”_ he hisses out.

“That’s potato, stupid,” Izaya giggles—giggles!—at him. “Teacher said sick people eat potatoes, so I crushed some for you!”

If Kasuka knew just how much anger management Shizuo’s been doing, he’d be so proud.

“First,” he flicks a finger at Izaya’s forehead. “Don’t call me stupid. Second it’s mashed, not crushed. Third,” he grabs the lunch box from Izaya, “this is raw! You didn’t even peel it!”

“But you said I can’t use the knife!” Izaya whines. “I can be good at that!”

Shizuo shakes his head vehemently. No way is he letting this kid ‘be good’ at using knives.

 

He’s out of the hospital by the end of the week to the surprise of the staff. Shizuo just shrugs them off. If it wasn’t for Izaya insisting he stayed he’d have been discharged the next day.

To his own surprise, Izaya’s parents had enough decency to send him gifts for saving their child. They find a basket of fruits by the front door when they arrive, along with a box of chocolates, a jar of pickles, and even an arrangement of bluebells. Huh. He’d have been more impressed if they decided to come home and take care of their son.

Said son is currently pulling at his arm. “What are you doing?”

“Shizu-chan needs to sit!” Izaya pulls at his sleeve and Shizuo lets himself be dragged over to the couch. The boy then carries over the foot stool and lifts the grown man’s legs onto them. Well, tries to anyway. “Too… heavy!”

The bodyguard decides to humor him and settles his limbs on the stool. “What are you…?” He’s unable to finish his question as Izaya dashes out of the living room, only to return with a blanket in tow. The boy then gingerly covers Shizuo’s legs with the blanket, before running out of the room again.

Is Izaya… nursing him?

 

The sound of breaking glass brings Shizuo to his feet and he rushes to the kitchen. Broken shards of what previously were a bowl of porridge and a glass of milk littered the floor. He finds Izaya in the middle of the mess, holding an empty tray.

The flea has never looked so disappointed before.

“Hey,” Shizuo picks the child up, careful not to step on the broken glass, and carries him to a clean spot. “ Are you hurt? You didn’t fall on any of that, did you?”

Izaya shakes his head and Shizuo can see the little figure trembling. When the boy speaks, it felt like the glass wasn’t the only thing to break.

“ _Ne_ , Shizu,” the child whispers. “Am I bad?”

The look on the child’s face is enough to shock Shizuo into silence.

 “Is that why bad things happen?”

_No._

“Is that why mom and dad are never here?

_Not your fault._

“Why no one wants to be friends with me?”

_None of those are your fucking fault._

“Ne,” small hands grasp the front of Shizuo’s shirt, “I won’t be bad, Shizu-chan. So don’t go away?” Izaya cries, the words a demand just as much as it is a plea.

 

 

Shizuo has always wished Izaya to break, particularly with his own two hands. That hate had pestered inside of him since that first cut Izaya had given. The informant has always been a symbol of everything that goes wrong.

But as he held the sobbing child, Shizuo finally understands that Izaya had always been broken in the first place.

 

 

The next few days pass uneventfully for the pair. Shizuo has long stopped counting the time he’s spent in this reality. If he wakes up one day and this really is all just an elaborate dream, he’ll deal with it then.

Izaya’s been a lot chipper after that small scene. He’s played more pranks on Shizuo in a short span of time than he has in his five years of life. Shizuo silently hopes this is not how the flea grows to be so scheming and manipulative. Oddly enough, he’s reminded that the kid is still Izaya by the smallest things. He’d had to do a double take each time the kid laughed; he’d still recognize that manic laugh anywhere.

He’s taking yet another smoke by the back of the house when Izaya saunters to where he is, dressed in his star-spangled pajamas and rubbing sleepily at his eyes.

“ I put you to bed an hour ago.”

“Can’t… sleep…”

“…You’re falling asleep on your feet.” Izaya shakes his head in denial, though his eyes still drop. Shizuo sighs. “You’ve always been stubborn.” He puts the stick out on the ash tray and picks the kid up. “C’mon.”

“…with …e…”

“What’s that?”

“…sleep with me…”

It’s a good thing it was dark else Shizuo won’t be able to hide his red face. He’s been sleeping on a separate futon in Izaya’s room but never intended to stay as close as the child wanted to now. For one, it was still Izaya and he didn’t want to have a memory of sleeping on the same bed with him when and if he gets back to the life he knew. Besides, he was pretty aware of how attached he’s been to the kid already, he’s concerned how Izaya would take it if he suddenly just… up and vanished.

But how can he deny him that?

Shizuo coughs into his palm a “Sure” before tucking them both into bed, all the while acting like he didn’t like it. The bed is small, there’s barely room for his legs so he has to curl against the small child, and  Izaya just has to say “Night night, Shizu-chan” and press a shy kiss to his cheeks.

No. Shizuo doesn’t like it one bit.

 

 

Izaya wakes up with a weird feeling. It doesn’t really hurt, but there’s still something weird about his tummy. He also didn’t have an appetite, even though the grilled mackerel and boiled rice Shizu-chan made smelled real good.

The weird feeling is still there as they walk to the school. Shizu-chan lets him hold on to his hand now and he’s really happy but his tummy isn’t. Shizu-chan asks him if something’s wrong but Izaya knows even if something is weird it doesn’t mean it’s wrong so he says “No”. Shizu-chan just smiles and Izaya smiles too because he likes it when Shizu-chan smiles at him.

But he still feels weird even when he’s already saying “See you later, Shizu-chan!” and Shizu-chan waves in goodbye.

Somehow, Izaya doesn’t like that wave.

He no longer sees Shizu-chan after that day.

 

 

High school.

It’s quiet as Izaya passes through the school gates. Class has started an hour ago but he couldn’t even bother being on time. He didn’t come here for class anyway. Shinra’s been bothering him more than usual since the biology geek learned he’s enrolled in the same high school. He honestly did not understand why the guy still cared for his company, not after that incident with Nakura.

If he wasn’t such a golden student, his parents might have given him the boot. As it turns out, they’d rather keep their boots to themselves and just go about ignoring him as they have used to.

Whatever. Izaya is used to it. Even though that man told him he shouldn’t, Izaya still grew up withdrawn from everyone else. Shinra says it’s called abandonment issues. Izaya says it’s a load of bull. He approached Shinra, didn’t he? And he didn’t really care if the geek just ignored him after the whole fiasco.

Which is why he finds it strange that Shinra’s too insistent that he comes to school just to meet someone. Says the new guy is unnaturally _strong._ Well, he knows why Shinra’s interested in him.

Since he’s here, he might as well give the guy a welcome gift. A few calls is all it takes to arrange his welcoming committee. With a smirk, Izaya heads to the courtyard.

“Let’s go and meet this guy, shall we?”

 

The whole thing smells funny. It’s been a few minutes since his goons attacked the new guy and they’re still at it. For one thing, Shinra was right and the guy was indeed strong. He couldn’t even see him properly in the middle of all this wreckage.

“Oh, Izaya-kun!” Shinra appears beside the goalie he’s perched on. “You should’ve told me you were coming today.”

“And ruin the surprise?” Izaya gasps mockingly. “You think little of me.”

As with all his antics, Shinra simply nods and smiles patronizingly. “I see you’ve found Shizuo-kun. You know it would have been nice if you just—Izaya?”

Shinra turns to find Izaya frozen in shock, before he scrambles to pull him to the ground when a metal pole comes flying in their direction.

 

 

“That was close,” Shinra comments as he dusts off his uniform and the tacky lab coat he always wears over it. To his confusion, Izaya stays on the ground, his face ashen and his eyes fixed on the center of the yard. “Izaya-kun? You’re acting really—oh, Shizuo-kun! Over here!”

He swears Izaya just squeaked.

 

Izaya can feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. This is one sick joke.

His laugh starts as a giggle before he’s in hysterics. “A-All right, Shinra,” he brushes the tears from his eyes and claps slowly. “You got me good. This joke can stop no—”

“Haaa?” another voice pitches in and Izaya almost bites his tongue. “Who are you calling a joke?”

 

 

The dust clears and Izaya finally sees the lone figure in the midst of all the wreckage.

He was certainly younger and the blond hair he knew was now a shade of brown. Not that it made a difference. Did he expect him to just forget since he was just a child back then? After all this time, he has the gall to just show up like this? Is this even the same person? He was a grown man then, for fuck’s sake! And he just _disappeared_! Did he know how long Izaya cried and waited for him? How many apple pies, candle sticks, balloons he’d had to go through? How many times he passed by 60 th street hoping he’d show up? _Who the fuck just disappears like that!_

Izaya doesn’t realize he’s crying until he hears himself bawl.

“Tch, crybaby.” The flick on his forehead brings his attention to the person now kneeling in front of him, before that same hand settles on the top of his head in an oh-so-familiar gesture. “Exactly how old are you now?”

And Izaya knows just by the grin on Shizuo’s face that yes, he’s really showing up like this now and maybe only time can tell exactly what was happening.

Right now, though, Izaya just couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

Shizuo’s eyes snap open. He just had the weirdest dream and the weirdest part of it is that he can remember _every single thing_.

“What the hell?” the bodyguard stares down at his trembling hands. He can still remember the look on Izaya—the five year-old Izaya—when he waved him goodbye. He watched that little back disappear through the school doors before he turned around and—

Well, guess he doesn’t remember everything. The next thing after that is him waking up.

…so it was all just a dream?

The thought of Izaya waiting for him at the end of that day and finding him gone sends a knife through his chest. But if it was all a dream, then he shouldn’t be worried anymore. That means the whole thing wasn’t real, anyway. And if he’s back in his real time, then he can get back to hating and beating the shit out of Izaya. The full-grown Izaya. Whom he can still beat the shit out of.

Right?

Shizuo grabs his hair and lets out a frustrated yell. He chokes on his own spit when the door to his room is kicked open and the object of his torment walks in in a pair of jeans, sweatshirt and—

“What the fuck are you wearing?!” He shakes his head vehemently. “No, fuck that. What are you doing in my apartment, flea?!”

Izaya raises an elegant brow at him. “To answer your first question,” he pulls on the hem of the velvet red apron he is wearing, “this is the apron Kasuka-kun and Ruri-chan bought me on my birthday that you tried to burn as soon as you can because you can’t stop fantasizing about me wearing nothing else underneath it.”

“WHATHEFUCK—?!”

“Second,” Izaya suddenly pounces on him and they fall back on Shizuo’s bed. “That is so mean, Shizu-chan,” he pouts and Shizuo can’t help but remember that pout on the young Izaya. “What do you mean _your_ apartment? I live here, too!”

Izaya yelps as Shizuo shoves him off in surprise. _“What do you mean you live here, too?!”_

“Exactly that…?”

 _“And why?!”_ Shizuo is aware he’s being quite hysterical but this whole thing is blowing him out of the water. Especially when Izaya fixes him with that are-you-an-idiot stare.

“Ha ha. Funny, Shizu-chan,” the flea deadpans. “If this is another one of your break up plans, it certainly isn’t the most creative.” He hops off the floor and settles himself on Shizuo’s lap. “So…?” Shizuo’s eyes widen an inch larger as Izaya leans in. “Are you going to give up now or shall I—mmpph?!”

Shizuo shoves a hand on the flea’s face and keeps him at an arm’s length. His mind is racing with questions that are struggling to burst out the same way Izaya was trying to break free of him.

_Break up plans? Living in the same apartment? Are we—? No way! What the fuck happened?!_

The barrage of thoughts halt as a pale hand touches the side of his face. He turns to see Izaya staring at him with an expression he only saw in his dream—

That dream!

“Uh, fl—er… Izaya-kun.” He pulls Izaya’s hand from his face but keeps it in his grasp. He’s momentarily distracted by the blush that tints Izaya’s cheeks but presses on. He takes a deep breath before saying, “This is going to sound weird but I had this dream that I met you as a kid and…”

Shizuo spends the whole morning recounting the events in his so-called ‘dream’ starting with the bus that hit him while they were fighting. Izaya had stayed on his lap the whole time, listening intently with a curious smile on his lips. When he is finished, the room stays quiet for a heartbeat, before Izaya is falling to the ground in a laughing fit.

Shizuo kicks him in the side to shut him up. “There’s nothing funny with that!” he growls. “Now, I seem to have a different life that I don’t know shit about!”

“Come now, Shizu-chan,” Izaya tries to calm him down with a pat on the head. “The only reason I find that funny is because that wasn’t a dream at all, stupid!”

“…stop shitting me.”

“I am not!” Izaya huffs before falling silent.

Shizuo frowns and opens his mouth to resume the argument, but then Izaya smiles and all he can think of is that he’s seen that one before and it was certainly worth feeling shit.

“You told me the same thing when we met again, but I guess you don’t remember do you?” Izaya then rushes out of the room before Shizuo can say anything. He comes back in less than a minute with a stack of photo albums and makes himself comfortable on the floor. Shizuo is about to question him again but Izaya pulls him down to the floor with him. “If you really can’t remember anything, then I’ll just have to tell you all about it.”

Shizuo grunts that this wasn’t the time for storytelling but the damn flea actually flicks his forehead in retort. Huh. That one was familiar.

“If it wasn’t for Shizu-chan, then things might have gone down differently,” Izaya mutters in a soft tone that Shizuo barely catches. “So I don’t care about time, _ne_?”

There was that smile again and all of a sudden Shizuo doesn’t see the child anymore, but Izaya himself. And as the flea recounts the past years he truly had no memories of, Shizuo decides that this reality did not seem that bad. Not bad at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys had fun!


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